Ersatz (On Hiatus)
by Moxonomy
Summary: An original Fate story. Ridley Lampert, a freelancer magus with his assistant Giselle, is sent to the newly established colony of Bellamarre to investigate a Holy Grail War of unknown proportions. What secrets that should've been forgotten years ago does the island hide? ... And what secrets does Ridley himself hide? Rated M for language and overall adult themes.
1. The Old Man and the Fair Lady

_Some say he didn't exist. Others say he did._

 _Undeniably, his purported existence inspired an entire esoteric movement._

 _A series of anonymous manifestos birthed him into the focus of the world, tales were told of his great journey, ideals were founded through his wisdom._

 _It could be said that in today's society of Magecraft, he was an instrumental factor for the spread of magic culture across the entire planet._

 _From the far East to the far West, his influence is so widespread that it is oft forgotten._

 _And forgotten, no, ignored it is from the minds of many of us. Many judge his existence allegorical, without much basis._

 _Yet his legacy cannot be ignored._

 _Are these the ramblings of a mad man? Or a desperate man?_

 _Are those not one in the same?_

 _After all, that is my quest. My objective. My goal._

 _Rosenkreuz._

* * *

The older man, looking in his mid-thirties, leaned towards the small campfire, the reflected glow of the flames hiding his eyes from sight behind his rectangular glasses. His unkempt auburn hair swayed gently in the mild breeze as he ran out of things to say. The forest around them, save the flickering fire, was still and lifeless.

Accompanying him on the opposite side was a young, beautiful maiden that could no older than her late-teens. Her incredibly long, flowing platinum hair somehow kept its tidy shape in the breeze as she stared with wide, garnet eyes. She was enthralled by the story, yet it ended too soon for her liking.

"Tell me more, Ridley."

"That is unfortunately the gist of it. There's little else to add to it, Giselle. That is, in its simplest, my true personal objective here."

Originally, a certain influential official of the Clock Tower proposed a certain candidate for a certain delicate task that required attention. This candidate was Ridley Lampert, a freelance magus bounty hunter, one of the few of his kind that could actually be said to be "successful". He was middle-aged, and was a nobody that people wouldn't question about if he were to disappear suddenly. An ideal, forgettable professional for the job at hand.

Of course, he couldn't anticipate being paired up with this mysterious woman. Only known as Giselle, she admittedly had beauty that defied any sense of the term "human". She was more of a goddess in appearance than anything, not that Ridley would openly admit that. Sometimes, he felt like this was more of a babysitting job...

"That's a shame, then."

Her tone only slightly indicated disappointment as she blew into her cup of tea, before gently sipping it.

True enough, Ridley did not come to the island of Bellamarre for a vacation. Though, it wasn't exactly a typical business trip either. Something a bit grander was taking place here. That being said, wasn't like it all had to be gloom and business.

"Remember why we're here, girl. It's not a holi-"

"The Grail, correct?"

Indeed. The Holy Grail. An omnipotent wish-granting device that is the stuff of legend... usually. Mostly, wars were waged between magi for these devices, teams of Masters and Servants representing various lineages to compete for the prize.

However, several years ago, the Fifth Holy Grail War ended... and with it, the retirement of the sixty year, blood-soaked tradition. The original Grail of Fuyuki City was deactivated and dismantled, as per the orders of the very same individual that had sent Ridley out here.

After all, who knows what kind of disturbed thoughts were conjured up in his head when he was informed of another Grail appearing in an isolated location. It was blamed on madness and deceit, yet truth was all that was found.

"-... Quite. We're here to do work... though I suppose we could take it easy during daybreak."

To a couple of unique individuals that specialized in two different kinds of Magecraft, night time was no hindrance at all to any of their attempts at surveillance and reconnaissance. Giselle finished her tea and put the cup away into her handbag.

"Night time is fun time. Daylight makes me sleepy."

She was like a cat, considering how nocturnal her habits seemed. Plus, she liked to be treated appropriately and was sufficiently lazy when the situation called for it. Thankfully, Ridley was enough of a gentleman to accommodate that type of princess complex, though not to the extent of fully spoiling the young lady.

"If you fall asleep while maintaining the field again, I'll hide your treats like last time."

"It goes both ways, old man. I'll bite your glasses till they're wonky."

Giselle stuck her tongue out at her partner in crime, clearly a past victim of that type of "abuse". Ridley chuckled as he whipped an ornate-looking cigar from inside his leather waistcoat. Lopping the end of with a cutter, he lit it in the campfire before placing it between his grizzled lips.

"Sure, sure. Now then... let's get moving so we can pretend to be productive till the sun rises."

He gave the lady a coy smirk as he stood up, puffing out a clod of thick smog that didn't seem to bother Giselle at all. He scritched away at his stubble chin before snuffing out the embers of the campfire with a firm stomp.

"They're watching, after all."

They packed up and mobilized. Indeed, from the shadows of the trees around them, many eyes were judging their every move. They had a given task to fulfill. A trained dog can bark, sniff and defecate at its own leisure, so as long as they remain obedient to their owner's commands.

"By the way... where did you manage to acquire that tea?"

As the unusual pair made their way out of the woods, a pair of ravens left their unusual perches and glided in vague pursuit. The sun was just about rising, giving way for the early dawn in the island of Bellamarre.

"I picked some leaves from the roadside and boiled them in water."

As its cluster of inhabitants would start to wake up, so would a chain of events that would lead to the turbulent chaos that will come to be known as the Bellamarre False Grail War...

"... Remind me to teach you what proper tea is."

* * *

Arcs of lightning struck the open field, leaving smoldering marks wherever they touched.

A figure ran through the assailed plains, dodging back and forth between fierce bolts. It was not a natural phenomenon. Even if weather could be sporadically destructive, it could never have such directed aggression.

No, this was a battle between supernatural beings of supreme power... a battle between Servants.

The fleeing figure, clad in a black with a beige mantle, took cover in a ditch as the lighting strikes ceased. The sky was clear, as the rising sun made apparent. This quelled any suspicion that the lightning was natural... though it was even greater than mere Magecraft, as well.

Crackling with energy, a grand figure descended before the ditch in which the fleeing Servant took cover. Hovering with the power of electromagnetism, the handsome Servant held his crackling gauntlet towards the opponent, ready to strike again at a moment's notice.

The darkly clad Servant stood from the cover, spreading his arms to his sides. It was time to cease the attempts of escape, and time to launch a counter-attack. After all, when it came to this lightning-launching Servant, escape was impossible except under extraordinary circumstances...

So all he had to do was create such circumstances himself.

In a glimmer of unnatural light, two contrasting blades of unknown origin appeared in his hands. One white, one black, he lunged straight up towards his attacker. Swift and fierce as a leopard, yet graceful and intricate in motion as a crane...

He was an entity that responded to the calls of the World itself, even though he had no place in this war-

"-I am the bone of my sword..."

A faceless, nameless shell of a hero whose story was not what it seemed... like living a distant dream-

"... So, as I pray-"

A flash of lightning cleansed the area in blinding light and rippling shockwaves, as the two Servants clashed.


	2. Pink Things Taste Best

After a few hours, the sun was shining high in the sky when Ridley and Giselle arrived at Bellamare Port. Despite the island having a smallish population of several thousand, its port saw considerable activity.

It was enough for the port to be considered its own settlement, given its population of stores and residences that lingered in the shadows of warehouses and shipyards.

It was currently the end of summer, autumn looming on the horizon. Tourists were heading out, while natives that had gone on vacation were returning. The lack of an airport also warranted all this attention to the port, with multiple ferries acting as the only means of reaching this place. The location of it on a map could only be described as "somewhere near the Virgin Islands".

"Old man, look."

She tugged his sleeve like a needy infant as she pointed at the window of a candy store. Notably, she was pointing to something beyond the window. In fact, Ridley knew exactly what she pointed at. A certain tray inside, amidst the rest of the selection, held a certain type of pink liquorice. After all, she loved pink things.

"Sweets will make your teeth bad."

"How can they if they're pink?"

Giselle pouted, knowing full well that she wouldn't get what she wanted as they waltzed past the store. She looked enviously at the smaller children that freely entered the place with their parents' permissions. Ridley gently shuffled his still-lit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, exhaling small puffs of smoke.

"I'll buy some peaches later, you can have those."

"Peaches?"

"A pink fruit."

She spontaneously beamed up at him, as she gripped his hand a bit tighter.

"Then that means they're delicious~."

It was an unusual yet charming habit of assigning a color hierarchy to food items. Pink meant its flavor was divine. Green meant it was disgusting, no matter what. Even if you dyed a pink food in green, it would change the flavor. That was how Giselle's tastebuds worked. If were only green on the outside, she would find a way to peel it.

It made little sense to Ridley, but that was kind of Giselle's thing, so he didn't mind. It was one of her many charm factors.

Talking about more pink things, the duo soon arrived at their destination; the post office. Having made his request, a couple of employees heaved and dumped a hefty, long container before Ridley. It's shape resembled a simple coffin. He smirked as he checked the packaging for damage, running his hand along it carefully like a man would with his precious sports car.

"That should be it, sir... it sure caused some commotion at customs though. Could you please verify what this is?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Ridley looked at the man through the corner of his eyes, a gaze shot sneakily from behind the cover of his glasses. He huffed, a plume of smoke puffing out like that of a wise old dragon. The man stood there for a second before shaking his head.

"I don't think I would, sir. Have a nice day."

The charmed individual nodded to his confused colleague, before the two of them left Ridley to his devices. He silently congratulated the laxness of the customs security as he grabbed onto bits of the container. Ripping away part of the packaging revealed a pair of straps, allowing him to hoist it onto his back in a feat of physical strength.

"And that should be everything. Time to get this show on the road."

"Can we get something to eat first?"

It was always something with this girl. It certainly kept Ridley in check, as he carefully took the cigar out of his mouth and tapped ashes off from its tip before returning it to its place.

"Sure."

It was no use to disappoint the young lady too much. After all, she would just become a hindrance otherwise. They stopped off at a local cafe, where she ordered herself a very pink cake of some sort after they had reserved themselves a table outside the storefront.

"And some Darjeeling tea, if you would."

At his recommendation, Giselle accepted a cup of steaming tea from the waitress, who gave her a friendly bow before setting down a couple of porcelain pots and making her way. Giselle sniffed the cup and blew on it.

"It smells good."

She sipped it, and then puffed her cheeks out while making a complicated expression.

"It tastes like black..."

To help her along, Ridley added a couple teaspoons of sugar and a drop of milk from the pots provided. The next sip provided a much more satisfactory expression as she started to drink from it regularly.

The old man smiled and took out a small, leather-bound notebook. He flicked it open to a blank page before taking out a pencil and scribbling in an entry. The true nature of this book was a log, documenting the small changes in Giselle's lifestyle. He was her caretaker, after all. This was a practice proposed to him by her family. Or well, one of them.

Personally, he found the occasion of introducing her to real tea to be quite a noteworthy one indeed.

She hastily tucked into her cake as soon as it arrived, not even using the provided fork and opting to use her delicate little hands instead. She swallowed a mouthful and spoke with crumbs and icing around her mouth.

"Hey, hey. Have you heard from sister?"

Her sister was a lady known as Enary. She was an accomplished magus with a troubled heritage, but managed to redeem herself within the family thanks to her talents. A close friend of Ridley, to some degree. Perhaps a bit too close for some peoples' likings.

"Not since we left, but that's because it's hard to contact from here. Perhaps I'll send a letter."

Despite being a magus, Ridley wasn't opposed to the use of technological devices to communicate like cellphones. However, Enary was strictly against it, which made her troublesome to contact. Occasional letters being sent out was the best way, in the hopes that she one day responds to one of them. Though it would foolish to send a letter without a legitimate report.

It didn't take long for Giselle to finish up. Being an upstanding man of society, Ridley opted to take the legal way out and pay for the generosity of the cafe and its staff before preparing to head out.

He stood up as he was about to return the wallet to his coat pocket when a wayward fellow suddenly barged into him, causing him to screech the chair across the floor a bit.

"Oh my..."

It was by no means an accident, as the petty thief successfully pilfered the wallet from the old man's hands and made off with it. Ridley could only shrug and shake his head, as Giselle worriedly watched the thief get away.

"Old man... he took the money-pouch."

"Worry not, I didn't have anything too important in it."

A minor inconvenience, if even that. At least, from he remembered was in the wallet. Probably nothing important, they could manage for a bit without currency. He knew a couple people that owed him favors, after all. He hoisted the container onto his back once again as Giselle took his hand again, and the two made their way off.

"If you say so, old man... what about the peaches though?"

"Ah-..."

* * *

In the evening, the port had quietened down considerably. Any ships that hadn't already departed from the docks were likely staying the night as the dusk was filled with the glow of indoor lights from various vessels and buildings.

Of course, it just meant some of that activity had moved elsewhere. Mostly within residences and restaurants, but it also shifted towards the less glamorous parts of the port.

Dark, dank alleyways that could hide things from the light of activity were commonplace for petty criminal acts and dealings. Even in a small town like this... no, especially in a small town like this.

A certain fellow wandered out of an indistinguishable alleyway, a satisfied yet dumb smile spread across his features as he wandered down the street in a seemingly half-drunken daze.

Following him a minute or two afterwards, a pale-skinned woman with dyed blonde hair stepped out. She closed her eyes and wiped her lips, clearing her throat.

"Last one for today, methinks..."

She chuckled as she reached into the back pocket of her hot pants and pulled out a certain wallet.

"Thankfully, lads like that ain't much bright after a pint or two."

After skimming through the contents of the wallet and being satisfied with her haul, she whipped out a cheap cellphone and performed a speed dial. She started to walk, and after a pause, she received an answer.

"I'm done for the night, Shi. You?"

The voice that responded was mature and experienced, in contrast to the young lady's brash and youthful one. The woman on the other end let out a sigh of content.

"Mmh... just finished my last meal. That should tithe me over for tomorrow as well... what do you propose next, mmh?"

"I scored some serious dosh from a lad without his wits about him, couldn't handle his drink. He probably nabbed it himself from some poor tourist, too. How 'bout we hit the main town? I hear O'Malley's is the place to be."

There was a pause, causing the lady to stop in her tracks as her smile disappeared. She quickly wondered if she had proposed the wrong idea. Her suspicions were quelled as wry laughter was heard on the other end.

"Very well. Let us drink and be merry, tonight! For tomorrow..."

"Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow, shit happens, right? I'll let tomorrow's me worry 'bout that."

"I like your style, girl. I wasn't wrong about you, mmh."

Saying their farewells, the carefree lady hung up and grinned. The cellphone that she had also taken from the man was cast away carelessly, smashing and breaking into two pieces against a wall as she skipped merrily towards a main road.

As she flaunted her hot pants and tank top combination to hitch a ride to the main town, only good thoughts coursed through her simple mind.

She was proud of the recent fortune that had graced her previously poor life. A successfully hitched ride to a beautiful island colony, meeting quite the interesting woman suddenly that one day and now a wallet full of riches procured in the easiest way...

It was time for her to have the night of her life, in the calm of the storm that will come and consume her sails.

* * *

 **Omake**

 **Mox** : My name is Moxonomy, the author of this story. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

 **Giselle:** It's a bit soon for this, isn't it? Don't you put this at the ending?

 **Mox:** What if I said it was ending of the whole story?

 **Giselle:** T-too soon! No way!

 **Mox:** No one would be satisfied with that. Anyway, the next few chapters will be more character introductions. That is the only good way to start a tale that spans many perspectives, after all. Please look forward to it.

 **Giselle:** Just how big is the cast...?


	3. Rockstar Debut

Transit to Bellamarre Town took a day via taxi, due to the way the roads were laid out. However, due to the financial loss they sustained, the duo were forced to make a trek across country roads towards the main settlement of the island. At this rate, it would take them a few days at least.

Ridley contemplated regrets of his past as he lugged that coffin-sized luggage on his back like a beast of burden, along with a passed out Giselle in his arms. The poor girl lacked the stamina he had, much to his chagrin, as she snoozed away peacefully.

A few cars had the audacity to pass them, without even offering a ride to the haggard middle-aged man. As expected of Westerners, he thought. He was one himself, after all.

After hours of travel, they were passing through the woodlands. Ridley decided to lean his luggage against a stump and rested on a patch of grass in the shade of the trees to the roadside. He let out a heavy sigh as he cleaned off the tip of his still smoldering cigar.

Giselle woke up soon after they stopped, her slumber seemingly disturbed by the pause of their travel.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not even close."

She narrowed her eyes at him. As dense as she seemed, even she knew that his carefree attitude landed them in this situation. He shrugged and sighed, patting her head. This seemed to placate her a little, as she yawned and leaned into his shoulder tiredly.

"I know, I know... this one's on me. I'll let you sleep all you like, just this once."

"Nnn... Old man, is the Grail really here?"

Suddenly, a relevant question. If there was one thing that surprised Ridley, it was the spontaneity of the serious questions Giselle asked. Though, this one held some weight to it. After all, Giselle's main purpose here was to detect the location of the Grail. If she asked the question like that...

"Still nothing, eh?"

He patted her some more, causing her eyes to slowly flicker shut. He didn't expect an instant response from her in regards to their objective. Though, he figured that she would at least feel some semblance of something by now.

... Even if not, they could use this time of futile searching as an excuse to have a proper vacation. Ridley could use it, and Giselle never has had one before in her life. There was a time where Ridley would let such feelings completely escape him, and he would simply move onto the next job... this wasn't that time, though.

He was going to enjoy as much of this free time as he could, and wanted to ensure Giselle's enjoyment too. Somehow, he felt it was all limited. Though, that was one of the major drives for a lot of magi. The goal of all magi, to reach the Root... some desired ultimate power or knowledge, others wanted to live forever.

Ridley was the same. He desired to reach the Root for something, that was for sure. Though, his answer wasn't the Grail that had the Association buzzing. His answer was that single name that drove him to accept this task.

"... Old man, what's your favorite flower?"

"Hmm... Spider lilies are pretty things, but they carry a depressing symbolism. Fitting for me, no?"

Giselle looked up at him a little, before gazing vacantly into the tree canopies. The rustling of leaves and the calm whistle of the breeze was all that could be heard for that moment.

"... What about yours, Giselle?"

"I don't have one. We never grew flowers at home."

That was correct, as Ridley recalled... Of course they didn't. After all, Giselle's home was-

BEEP.

The sudden blare of a car horn shook both of them to the core as they sat up, startled like deer in headlights. It would've been literal if it were night time, as a worn-looking sedan had pulled up in front of them on the road. The window was manually cranked down as a grizzled woman in scars and shades leaned her elbow out of it.

"Well ain't you two a sight for sore eyes? Did you lose your wallet or something?"

She gave them a snarky grin, as Ridley stood up and laughed. Fortune finally decided to favor them for the rest of the day, it seemed.

"What a time to make a grand entrance, Jex. I owe you a favor. Again."

He nodded in affirmation to Giselle, who silently hobbled her way over to the car. She exchanged a cautious glance with Jex, though she was unable to gauge much from her gaze because of those shades. Ridley hoisted up his luggage, but Jex clicked her tongue in response.

"Oi, oi. That ain't fitting in my trunk."

She banged the roof of her car briskly.

"Tie it to the top. Should be rope in the back."

He shrugged and did as instructed, popping open the rear and perusing through an assortment of... "souvenirs". He groaned a little as he pulled out a messily rolled up bundle of rope. It was... dripping red.

"... This is still wet."

"I literally just got here from another job, okay? Had to splice the Circuits right outta him... then dumped him at sea. Convenient, ain't it? That I was allowed to give him a watery grave, so I could whisk on through and save your sorry arses."

Ridley did not want to argue with this person, of all people. He knew full well that he could easily lose his head with Jex's temper. Despite not being a proper magus herself, she was just as ruthless and resourceful as one.

Reluctantly, he tied his precious cargo with the stained ropes to the roof of the car, before he took his seat in the front passenger bay. Shortly after, the car zoomed off down the windy roads that led through the forest.

* * *

 _Some time ago..._

The lone farmhouse was silent.

Nothing moved in it. Any more.

Nothing breathed in it. Any more.

Nothing lived in it. Any more.

A crunch shattered the silence, followed by guttural squishing and slurping. The lone figure sat in a chair in the dining room. The table, walls, ceiling, floor; they were all painted in dripping, congealing redness. A thick iron stench completely covered the whole place.

Moonlight was all that illuminated the grotesque scene, as the gaunt man's teeth split bones and carved flesh. This wasn't the fruition of some grand scheme, nor was it an act of brutal vengeance or even a mindless massacre.

This was simply nature running its course. For the man, this was simple leisure.

In a brief moment, the limb that he sunk his fangs into shriveled up like a prune as he drained everything he could from it. And then he kept on draining, until it became little more than dust which scattered into the air.

There was one major difference from everything else in the bloodbath that took place. While the rest of the corpses had been chopped up into easily consumed pieces, one remained fully intact in its own pool of black blood.

The man shot a slit-eyed gaze over to it occasionally, enmity reeking from his scarlet eyes each time. He eventually grew bored of draining those limbs and carelessly cleared the table, causing all the parts to splatter onto the floor in a messy pile.

The family that once lived here was just mere collateral. His true objective had been achieved with the death of this one person. He was finally free... of those decades of bondage that he had suffered through.

After procuring a full jerrycan from the family shed, he drenched everything in pungent fuel. His nose wrinkled at the sheer odour of the stuff as he ensured everything was covered, before pouring the rest in excess over the intact corpse.

What was to follow was obvious. With a simple scratch of his claw-like nails, a spark created a roaring inferno that engulfed the house in near instantaneous combustion. The fiery explosion echoed throughout the nearby fields as the giant fireball illuminated the night.

Yet, the arsonist did not celebrate. He felt no joy nor relief in the fulfillment of his objective, he simply felt... free. Rather, he had forgotten how to experience such emotions long ago. The proper term that could used to describe him was "empty".

 _In some ways, emptiness and freedom are synonymous._

As the fire illuminated his pale, bloodsoaked features, a fellow figure appeared behind him. Instincts screamed at him, and he spun himself around to assault the visitor.

It was to no avail. The figure was somehow further than he thought, as he warily stared down the witness to his crimes.

"What a beautiful display of savagery... don't you feel liberated now? Smile, at least."

The ghoulish man only felt something strange about this individual, rather than outright suspicion. They were, in every respect, human. They even had the same scent... yet, they couldn't be human. Fundamentally, he couldn't accept this being to be a simple human.

"... Well, if you won't smile from that, I'll give you something to smile about. Do you know what the Holy Grail is?"

No response. Of course he knew what that was... a figment of wild fantasies of the past. Nothing more than the materialization of hopelessness from various people who wanted an easy way out for their troubles. It applied to the kingdom from back then, and it applies to hapless magi in current times as well.

In short, the mention of that was met with nothing but contempt.

"How would you like to attain it?"

Impossible. This was just a trick. This human needed to die.

"Because... I know where you can find one. In fact, it's my own one. Soon... in a few decades time, it will be..."

The anonymous figure mentioned a certain location to the man. It didn't inspire any kind of reaction... except mild confusion. Never had he heard of this place, yet somehow that added credibility to it. Just a little.

"You are in disbelief. Not surprising... but maybe if I show you this, you will consider my offer."

They flashed something in the moonlight, and it made the blood-drenched man's eyes go wide. He was stunned... shocked, even. He experienced a real emotion for the first time in many years, as he saw that symbol.

A wicked grin spread across his features infectiously, as he giggled... then chuckled, then laughed. He cackled into the moonlit sky as emotions burst out of his repressed psyche at this revelation. When it had all expended itself, he drooped his arms to his sides and hung there like a living corpse... it was essentially what he was.

And then he spoke in a gravelly voice.

"I will follow you to the ends of the earth... so indeed, show me some more miracles, after all..."

He licked his bloody, pursed lips.

"You already showed yourself to me."

The shadow put their symbol away. Pleased with how negotiations went, they vanished into thin-air, without a trace. The lone killer was left there, house blazing to the ground behind him as tears welled up in his eyes. They were not tears of sorrow nor joy. They were tears of relief.

For with this surge of emotion and revelation, his black-stained spirit had been revived. Once again, he was given a purpose to work-

No. To kill, to burn, to destroy towards.

* * *

A couple hours later, they had stopped at a dainty gas station. For two reasons, one of which being that it was one of the only stations on the road to town. Secondly, Giselle looked like her soul had left her body as she drooped over Ridley's shoulders like wet laundry.

"I told you to take it easy... she's rarely been in cars before."

"She ain't fine china, Riddles. Well, she's a fine piece of work in someways, that's for sure."

Jex leaned against her car as she discarded a cigarette onto the ground, crushing it under her thick boot. She resembled the traditional example of a veteran mercenary; riddled with scars, reeking of smoke and booze and clad in minimalistic military gear.

She shouldn't have had any place next to a magus, at all. She was a person that would induce a frown from anyone in the Association. Yet here they were, as comrades in arms. It was a long story.

Ridley continued to smoke his cigar as he offered to light Jex's next cigarette, an offer which she accepted without hesitation.

"So you got sent here to investigate too? I'm surprised they sent you, of all people."

"They didn't, not officially anyway. Why would those pompous pricks hire a mutt from a dead family like me?"

The Whitaker family was infamous to a fair few people, at least throughout the Clock Tower. Due to rash decisions by a family head of a previous generation, their circuits had been rendered useless from Jex's generation onward. It made the Whitaker name one of a great shame. Though, for Jex, she wore it as an accolade more than anything.

"... Then what are you doing here?"

Jex inhaled deeply, before breathing out a long column of smoke that made Giselle back off of Ridley's shoulders and gag a little.

"S-stinky..."

He patted the girl's back before leaning against the car beside Jex, crossing his arms.

"... Listen. Let's not pry into each other's businesses too much. Maybe we're buddies in the tavern over a few drinks, maybe a bit more when you actually manage to get me upstairs... but business is still business. For the sake of your reputation, keep this meeting between us."

"Right, right. I see that the mouthy bookworm also lectured you into keeping in line. Well, we'll leave it at that."

A mutual agreement was reached, as the two of them smoked away towards the sunset. After resting for another hour and replenishing supplies, they took off again. It was only another couple hours to get there now, they'd reach town by nightfall.

Giselle clutched to her seat as the rickety car shifted about on the road as they went, though this time Ridley sat in the back with her. Feeling somewhat safer, she rested against him... and gripped tightly into his waistcoat.

"Old maaan... are we almost there yet?"

He exhaled a clod of smoke and nodded.

"Soon."

Feeling reassured, she closed her eyes so that she could rest up as best as she could, regardless of the tossing and turning of Jex's atrocious driving.

"Say... old man, does that smoky thing ever run out of smoke?"

"... Nah, it's a special smoky thing."

* * *

 **Omake**

 **Giselle:** Old man is working overtime.

 **Mox:** Don't worry, Riddles is used to it.

 **Giselle:** I meant you.

 **Mox:** Eh? Eh!? I'm not old! I swear!


	4. Three Wise Kings

"Pwaaah!"

Giselle let out a satisfied gasp as she finished gulping down some pink lemonade, feeling immediately refreshed from the flavorful sensation. She had survived the roadtrip through hell and they had finally arrived in Bellamarre Town.

"Welp... here's a place to crash. See you guys around, gonna go clean my car somewhere discreet."

Jex simply left with them that after dropping them off outside of a hotel, before she drove off. Out of the goodness of heart (read: losing to Ridley in a betting game), she gave a portion of her recent earnings to them so they could at least eat and sleep somewhere. Ridley pretty much knew that they'd likely not see her again though... on good terms, at least.

The hotel wasn't extravagant by any means, but it wasn't some simple bed & breakfast either. The perfect middle-ground between both of those, quaint in every regard. Cheap, too. They didn't take too long checking in and finding their rooms and were out and about again in little time.

As they had a wander, sightseeing around the modest yet developing town, Ridley couldn't help but give many occasional glances to that towering skyscraper that stuck out of the large town. Even though it was almost a city, that kind of structure was something you'd see in a city-state or something to that degree.

"That tower is super big. It's bigger than my home."

And Giselle's home was a pretty large complex. That said, it surely wasn't the largest Ridley had come across... but it sure seemed like it, especially when compared to all the other buildings in town.

"Someone's got too much money and time on their hands. That's what money does to you, after all..."

"It makes you into a big tower?"

The old man stifled a laugh, coughing a bit of smoke through his grinning lips as he head-patted the silly little girl.

"Yeah, let's go with that. C'mon, let's see if we can get you something nice with Jex's generous donation."

She let out a little cheer as she gripped his hand tighter. They headed towards a shopping complex, no doubt to initiate Giselle's pink shopping spree. Somehow, though, Ridley couldn't help but feel uneasy all the way.

And he knew that Giselle felt it too. She wasn't just holding onto him tightly out of affection. She didn't know why she felt uneasy, she just did, and that made her afraid. That innocent anxiety only piled onto the old man's concerns.

This town... was so peaceful, yet there was clouds of omens lingering above all that tranquility. It all pointed towards the matter of it becoming a battleground... if the Grail did exist there. That uncertainty was a dreadful thing.

Until then, he cherished every peaceful moment they could get. As did she.

* * *

 _That night..._

 **"Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Let each be turned over five times, simply breaking asunder the fulfilled time..."**

The circle of blood etched into the ground flickered to life.

 **"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation."**

Energy accumulated in the atmosphere in the area. A certain pressure emanated from the power of the ritual.

 **"Let the void command mine course. Raise a wall, against the wind that shall fall."**

It all began to glow, as a frail box in the center burst into splinters to reveal its contents.

 **"Let the four Cardinal gates close. Come out from the crown... let the three-pronged road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."**

Within the box were two objects. Grayed and ancient, shards of a long lost weapon...

 **"It shall now be declared; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword..."**

These objects floated into the air. Long ago, a legendary weapon was shattered...

 **"Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this reason..."**

They hovered close to each other. It was destroyed by its owner's fury-

 **"An oath shall be sworn here. I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven... I shall have dominion over all evils over all of Hell..."**

Like two birds of fate, destined to be rejoined after so long... even though it served through the entire epoch, it succumbed to his might in the moment he needed it most.

 **"From Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power..."**

Yet, this is not that hero's story.

 **"Come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the false balance!"**

A pillar of light emanated from the circle and engulfed the whole area.

...

When it faded, the artifact had been pieced back together. It floated there, still looking as old and fragile as it did before...

However, as the rustling of the surrounding trees ceased and the nearby wildlife had fled in their entirety...

"... Accomplished magus, I have accepted the call of this Grail... I ask of thee, art thou mine Ma-"

An androgynous voice spoke out from the center of the circle. When the light died out completely, a figure clad in black and gold stood there. Their armor looked heavy, like that of a knight. No, it could be said that this person was a king of knights. However, they were not _the_ King of Knights.

Their speech had stopped, however, as they beheld that floating artifact before them. The catalyst used to summon them... it struck them with a sense of nostalgia as they reached towards it.

"... Take it. This is unexpected... but take it."

The voice spoke out to the armor-clad warrior. It held no kindness nor malice, it was entirely neutral. Yet, that in itself gave it sinister undertones. Regardless, it could not be considered the voice of a dangerous person, as the warrior touched the artifact.

It glowed brightly, as life seemed to revive it to its former glory. Its hue was black like obsidian, and red cracks suddenly peeled across its thick blade. The warrior gripped onto the weapon's mighty guard, and the red cracks dissipated into pure obsidian.

It was the opposite of a holy weapon. It could be said to be demonic. It was handled like a sword, yet its blade could only vaguely resemble the concept of one.

"... You summoned me with this?"

"This was not within my calculations... and that makes this a wondrous outcome. A miracle, if you would."

The black-gold warrior looked across from themselves, at the person who had called them to this strange land.

Stood before them, a tan-skinned man that could only be described as a noble of some foreign culture. Garishly dressed in purple and silver, some might believe he was an entertainer or performer of sorts. However, even the slightly trained eye of a novice magus would be able to see that he was one of the highest caliber.

"Welcome to Bellamarre, Saber. My name is Thu'ban Ibn Ra's-ul-Hawwa, the dedicated leader of the Tzofnath Conclave. It is an honor to be your Master, from here on out... if you would please remove your helmet, I'd like to see your face."

He swept a hand through his silver hair as he spoke, his eagle-like golden eyes staring holes into Saber as they set the sword down against the ground.

"... Very well, Master."

Saber had no cause to reject their Master, nor did they have any grounds on which to deny the request to remove their helmet. It was simple formalities, after all.

Thus, Saber placed their gauntlets onto either side of the full helmet they wore and lifted it off, to reveal...

Flowing, silken black hair. As dark as _her_ armor. It was a woman with pale skin and crimson eyes, that stared straight back into the golden ones of her Master. One could say she was one of immaculate beauty, but on the other hand, one could say she was one who was born to be a warrior.

"As I suspected... you are a woman, after all."

"I suppose it would come across as a surprise. I was not known as one, after all."

She was aware of the facts around her identity, it seems. Thu'ban nodded to himself and crossed his arms, smiling a little. That Heroic Spirit was indeed the real deal, he could feel it. Even though it was supposedly a False Grail, here he was with a full-fledged Servant. A Top Servant, at that. He could already tell who she was.

Whereas the similar spirit, the King of Knights, would be shining with silver and purity like the hopes of mankind... this king here, emanated an aura that was pure regal aggression, the moxie of mankind made manifest. Though, this was not to say that she was a tyrant. Rather, she was the opposite type of a just ruler.

"Now then... come, Wild Huntsman. We have work to do."

"... So you do know who I am."

Her tone was uncertain. Thu'ban turned his head, a neutral expression on his handsome features.

"Oh? Is that an uncomfortable title for you?"

Wind swooped hair over her face a little, as silence settled into the area for a moment...

"It's not that, it's just..."

Interrupting the quiet, her hair fell again to reveal a grin across her pale features. Her eyes were blazing with some kind of enthusiasm.

"It gets me a bit fired up."

* * *

 **Omake**

 **Giselle:**... *stares intently at the chapter*

 **Mox:** What's wrong?

 **Giselle:**... Eebin... Russelhoover? (She's trying to say a certain someone's name)

 **Mox:** A for effort.


	5. Red Light District

**Act Start: Madder Red Nights**

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The old clock's hands ticked away, the only noise that could be heard in the quiet hotel room.

Giselle sat silently on the bed, staring out the window to witness the moon approaching its peak.

Ridley sat on the floor, his back against the wall. He twiddled the cigar between his lips a bit and gently rolled something between his fingers. The gleam of a small, arrow-shaped vial flashed in the moonlight.

A vial of fluid that was said to be able to make anyone capable of performing Mysteries... though, he had re-purposed it. That was his specialty, after all.

Putting it away with a stash of others, he leaned back and closed his eyes...

Levels were stable. Reserves were intact. The case was primed...

Ding. Dong.

The clock blared abruptly as the hands struck midnight. They exchanged a sudden glance to each other. Night time was upon them...

It was time to move.

* * *

Downtown Bellamarre was a stereotypical representation of what one would expect from that type of area; in the midst of mass construction of facilities, there were many independent and low-end businesses hiding in the shadows trying to make a living.

Because of the high tourist population, just like the port-village, there was quite the abundance of gambler's dens, clubs and brothels to peruse through in this minority part of the town.

Thus, it was easy for one who revels in such atmospheres to memorize the whole area in little time.

A pair of women exited out the backdoor of a particularly lively club, the muffled sound of music booming from within as they stepped into the alleyway. In a tipsy state, the younger-looking woman of the two grinned as she sat herself on a trashcan nonchalantly.

"And that's what we call a snatch."

She seemed giddy as she pulled out some hapless tourist's handbag, perusing through its contents. A few too many suggested drinks and a couple narcotics later, and none were the wiser.

"You're quite the urchin, aren't you?"

There wasn't any hint of disappointment nor astonishment in the older woman's voice. Just mild amusement as she leaned against a wall and smoked a pipe.

She was what one could call "aged beauty", dressed in an attire that was likely recommended by her accomplice. She had pitch-black hair that was tied into a braided ponytail, with parted bangs that emphasized her pristine forehead nicely.

Dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a V-neck sleeveless top that left little to fantasize about her generous bust, she was on the other side of the spectrum of sexual appeal to the giddy youth that was graced by her presence.

"Whaddya expect? I ain't a pretty princess sort, y'know. Thought that was pretty much clear from the get-go... though you don't seem much better off, Shi."

The one called Shi laughed a bit as puffed thick smoke from her nose.

"Watch your tongue, Joyce. I'm leagues above you, as nostalgic as all this business is..."

Her smile seemed fleeting for just a moment, before Shi started to make her way out of the alley.

"Come, child. We have other matters to tend to."

"Awright... serious stuff now, yeah?"

Joyce hopped off of her makeshift seat and followed after her partner. Despite the serious expression that Shi now wore, Joyce seemed as carefree as other. No doubt, she was brimming with that youthful energy that defined her.

"More like dangerous. You could always head back and carry on with your fun, I can tend to this alone."

While there should've concern within that suggestion, it was more of a reminder than anything. This was because Shi already knew the answer that her partner would provide, smiling wryly as she offered such advice.

"You having a laugh with that? I ain't a baby. I've been sleeping with danger all my life, my middle name may as well be danger."

This caused the older woman to laugh, as they wandered down the street into the less densely populated parts of the town, the fringes of its civilization. Their destination after a bit of a walk was an abandoned construction site.

A derelict and ominous place, it reeked of banditry due to various graffiti markings and vandalism that riddled the place. The likely reason it was originally abandoned, now acting as a simple getaway for addicts and crooks. The perfect place for a shady meeting.

Despite how scary it seemed, Joyce entered the area merrily ahead of her partner. While Shi wasn't cautious, her stride was controlled as she stood in the middle of the unfinished courtyard, surrounded by partially built foundations and abandoned construction equipment.

"Now then... my child, this is not a suggestion. This is a command."

Joyce turned on her heel and looked at Shi curiously... losing her smile when she saw that stern, aged expression.

"Stay behind me."

For once in her life, when not in the bed, Joyce chose to submit. She shrugged and scooted over to Shi's side, standing behind her and looking around. She was expecting something, or someone, to show up. It was an appointment offered to them, after all.

"So... is a big scary boogeyman gonna jump out and try to have his way with us?"

Shi remained silent, closing her keen eyes for a moment as she listened in... the sound of a faint breeze blowing through the site, and the hum of an active town in the background.

Her eyes flicked open after a few minutes, as she glanced up at a column on the far side of the courtyard.

"You had a chance to strike... so you really are here for negotiations, boy?"

The younger girl blinked in confusion and looked towards the pillar. Only as she squinted to focus her eyes, could she see a figure perched on top of it... a beige mantle swaying in the breeze, before it leaped down into the courtyard before them with a loud clank of metal.

Joyce stepped back, her heart skipping a beat. That motion in itself... so swift and sudden that it made her drop the handbag. To drop from such a height in such a controlled way was unnatural, and to the figure it seemed as simple as walking down a step of a staircase. She gulped.

"Are you so foolish as to present your Master so openly?"

A man spoke out. Their features were hidden underneath their dense mantle, which settled down over their shoulders. However, through the dimly lit night air, she could make out that he was wearing a suit of armor of sorts beneath that clothing.

"You're the foolish one for choosing diplomacy over assassination in a war like this... I am good at the former, though."

"You mean, thwarting assassination? I cannot imagine one of your stature would be assassinated so easily."

Shi raised an eyebrow, as she put one foot forward to get into a defensive stance.

"You know who I am?"

"... Mere conjecture. Formalities aside, I have a proposal."

"That's why we're here, isn't it?"

He was stating the obvious, and Shi was certainly not a patient individual. Especially when it came down to diplomatic dealings such as this. If there was no monetary assets involved, then her interest waned rapidly.

"Very well. The Grail is not something I desire. Rather, I desire to destroy it. Will you join my crusade?"

This surprised Shi, who went a little wide-eyed as she took the pipe out of her mouth and exhaled smoke. Joyce blinked and looked to Shi, shaking her head.

"Oi, oi... didn't ya say the Grail is some wish-granting thing? Why the heck would we destroy that, why would anyone? It's the most obvious trick in the bo-"

"Shush."

Shi closed her eyes as she actually seemed to contemplate that offer. Truly, the basis of this war was strange in the first place... as a high-ranking Servant, she knew that much. This man before her recognized that too, and offered quite a simple solution to eliminate that mystery. And yet...

"What's in it for us? You do know that the winner can have a miracle granted, right? Why would anyone in their right mind wish to destroy such a precious treasure?"

"Treasure, eh... well, nothing says you can't use it before we destroy it, correct?"

That was a contradiction in itself. One of the requirements to activate the Holy Grail was for one team to come out as the "victor". That was the extent that Shi knew of, anyway... unless it meant there was a potential loophole? She contemplated some more, as Joyce looked on worriedly.

She didn't worry about the fact that it may have been a trick, rather she was more concerned about losing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. She signed up to have a wish granted, that much she knew for certain, and she wasn't going to forego that for some stranger who is clearly trying to deceive them.

"Let's just deck him and go, Shi. He pisses me off already."

The feisty woman snarled a little, as Shi chuckled and placed the pipe back between her red lips. The stranger grew weary himself now, as he shook his head.

"This is between Servants, woman. Clearly, your partner is considering my-"

"Huh? Who said I was considering your ludicrous offer?"

Suddenly, Shi's clothes changed before their eyes. It became something much more majestic...

A Chinese-style robe adorned with various ornate and flowery patterns, lined with gold and beads that rattled magnificently in the wind that suddenly blew through the site. Such oriental majesty was contrasted against the brashness of a flowing scarlet cape she wore, as well as dark-colored pantaloons.

For a moment, the human woman could only gaze in awe at the drastic change in presence... after all, it was only the second time she had seen this form of her.

With a boom, Shi suddenly lunged towards the man and slashed at him with a curved saber. A sheer metallic sound rang throughout the area as the mystery man blocked it with a polearm, which he pulled out of nowhere. She swiveled her other arm around, clutching a flintlock within it, before firing and missing the man's head by mere millimeters.

They bounced off of each other and stood their ground. Things were getting a bit more heated now, as Joyce scampered away to hide behind another column, peering on cautiously. When she said "deck him", this wasn't what she had in mind.

The man twirled his polearm and rested it to his side. If it was even a weapon, it was unidentifiable due to being wrapped in layers of thick cloth. Shi figured that the weapon would be a clear sign of his identity, hence that precaution. She brandished her saber a bit as she blew away smoke from her freshly fired barrel.

"All this time, I was simply deliberating over how much of a fool you are... Lancer."

"You..."

There was enmity in his voice. With his cause trampled on by such a brash display of ignorance, it was only human of him to react in such a way. He shook his head, his class unintentionally revealed to save his own skin. He analyzed the opposing Servant quickly...

"A firearm and a sword... with one or the other, you could be Saber or an Archer... but..."

The realization came to him as he gripped the polearm in both of his hands, taking a fighting stance.

"Your lack of sense would make me assume a Berserker... but you are Rider, are you not?"

As if to congratulate him on that guess, Rider twirled her gun around and shot at the floor before Lancer. He instinctively, and naively, raised his weapon up in defense... only to have a plume of dust spewed up into him from the impact of the projectile, as Rider acrobatically leaped over and behind him.

"You got a mean look, but you're kinda dense in the senses, boy!"

She slashed at Lancer successfully and kicked him across the courtyard firmly. His body bounced across the ground before he recovered and landed on his feet, blood dripping from a wound on his shoulder.

"You... bitch..."

His voice was haggard with rage, as he straightened himself up. He could feel his anger welling up... it was one of his major flaws, yet he could also utilize it as a strength. A short temper... as long as it was for the sake of his ideal, he didn't care.

"You stand in my way... therefore, you must be struck down!"

With conviction, he swallowed down the hindrance of his wound and launched a counterattack. Weapon met weapon as they clashed again, over and over in quick succession as sparks flew from the power of their strikes. Every now and again, a stray shot from the flintlock would ping off the ground or some part of the scenery.

The Master watched on... as best as she could, anyway. To her, it was a blur of inhuman movements and sparks. They moved so quickly and so expertly, she could feel her skin growing paler from just being there. Her heart sunk in her chest every time one of those pellets pinged off a bit of the battleground.

Truly, Shi was right. She had no place here, it was dangerous... more so than she had ever imagined. Yet, despite that, she felt the need to stay there... not just for Shi, her Servant, but for herself. For the first time in her life, she felt responsibility, and it rooted her in place despite instincts screaming for her to run.

Rider saw an opening, as Lancer missed a wide attack. She stomped down on his hand in a rather crude fashion before firing a couple point blank shots into his shoulder. This was followed by her spinning her saber around and smashing him in the side of the head with its grip, before she tossed him overhead and into the ground.

"From your style... you're a knight, aren'tcha? You sure as hell don't fight like one. You fight like a pup of the fleet, you do!"

Lancer choked as he was slammed down, still clutching the polearm in his hand as he was pinned. After a moment of Rider staring down at him with a fierce grin, he started... to break out in laughter.

"I was once a knight... what's it to you?"

With his aggression stacking up, his speech became informal as well. He struggled underneath the strength of Rider as he kept laughing. This only served to anger the woman further as she firmed up her pin on him. She pointed the flintlock to his hidden face.

"It's nothing to me, boy. I just expected a bit more than a wet noodle."

"Well... if it's more that you would like, don't pull that trigger. After all, I'm only a diversion."

The end of that sentence carried the most weight of all, as Rider's eyes widened. Suddenly, her senses were freed from the restraints of battle focus as she heard a click in the distance.

"Master!"

She kicked the ground hard, causing it to rupture as she launched herself towards Joyce... before she intercepted a projectile from the darkness, blood spraying from her mouth as she fell to the ground before her Master.

Joyce fell onto her butt, her sweating face distorted by sheer dread. Her partner landed before her, in a growing pool of blood... and then she screamed.

"S... SHI!"

* * *

 **Omake**

 **Giselle:** Hm...

 **Mox:** What's up?

 **Giselle:** You introduced and killed her off in the same chapter?

 **Mox:** Hmm... wait until next chapter.

 **Giselle:** Oooh. That means she lives?

 **Mox:** I saaaid wait.

 **Giselle:** I'm going to tweet that now; "she lives in the next chapter, guys..." *wanders off with a smartphone*

 **Mox:** And that is how rumors are born from misinterpretations... who would tweet about this silly ol' fic anyway?


	6. A Game of Puddle Jumping

Clouds loomed over.

Joyce's voice rung throughout the site, as Lancer started to pick himself up... as did Rider.

With haggard breaths, Rider rose from the pool of blood, coughing and dripping. She clutched her abdomen where she had been shot, checking the injury as she turned her head to her Master, smirking a bit.

"I ain't going down that easy, my child..."

She turned back to Lancer, the wound starting to heal over as she tapped into her reserve energy. She was on higher alert now, since now it was apparent that she faced two adversaries. It couldn't have been Lancer's Master, either. That bullet, to cause such injury, could only be the weapon of another Servant.

"And judging by your habit of hiding in the shadows... I see you are delusional enough to be coaxed by this boy's words, Assassin?"

A sneak attack aimed for the Master, the conclusion was only logical. Assassin was clearly in league with Lancer. Of course, there was no response, as Rider detached a bottle from her belt and chugged a bit from it before wiping her lips. A mix of blood and lipstick smeared across her features as she grinned.

"No matter, fighting two of you isn't an issue for me. If it's a numbers game... I always come out on top."

As she reached again for her flintlock, however, Joyce suddenly grabbed her from behind and squeezed. Rider was flustered for a moment, and expected the enemy to take that opportunity... yet nothing came.

"S-Shi... let's get outta here. I almost died, you almost died... this is _too_ dangerous!"

Tears were in her eyes, out of the sheer fear of almost losing her soul mate and terror for her own well-being. She was shivering, her knees weak and her back hunched.

"Almost died?! Xiaogui, you think lowly of my- ... my, my. I suppose it was too dangerous for you."

Initially outraged at the underestimation of her power, it was clear that Joyce had no place here, and she had finally realized that. One could only offer pity in seeing the young lady so fear-stricken. The best lessons are those first experienced, supposedly.

Which raised another question, as Rider turned back to Lancer.

"Why did you not strike me down?"

For a moment, Lancer kept his silence as he twirled his polearm and rested it on his back... before he sighed.

"Old habits die hard."

"Aah... chivalry, and all that. I see, I see... I can never understand chivalry, but I can certainly understand following a code. I respect that."

Thus, a mutual respect was forged between them. Even if the Lancer wouldn't admit to it, and even if the Rider still loathed his apparent insanity, they at least found some common ground.

"Well I went and lost the will to fight. Seems Assassin did too."

"I only told her to shoot once. She failed that, so she is gone now."

"She, eh? Nice hint."

Rider stood firmly by Joyce's side as they prepared to leave. As simply at that, the battle was over without any victors. A strange conclusion to a strange ordeal. Lancer stood there and watched them, not even budging from his position.

"Oi, Lancer. What do you really want?"

"... What? Did I not make my intentions clear?"

"If you were really clear on them, you would've stricken us down regardless of some silly knight's code. Destroying the Grail... that's not something a man with enough sense left in his head to be chivalrous would say."

Lancer was slightly offended at being psychoanalyzed in such a way, but he couldn't say she was wrong. Not completely, anyway.

"Your Master some kind of psycho?"

"No. I truly wish to destroy the Grail..."

Rider sighed and shrugged, before she made her way off, making sure she was shielding Joyce at all times. She waved behind her in half-bothered fashion.

"Next time, make it a real fight... Knight of the Round."

He clenched his fist, and yelled incoherently after her. He did not pursue, though. Truly, he had no will to fight. That was never his intention. After all, she provoked his anger... he was defending himself. That was how he justified it.

"I... was never..."

Suddenly, a figure landed behind him. Yet, he did not spin to retaliate. He already knew who it was, and he spoke to them in a capricious tone that floundered between disappointment and relief.

"You missed."

"..."

A woman that could only be Assassin stood behind him. She stared at him with empty gray eyes as her pink-brown hair swayed in the breeze. She was wearing a neatly buttoned shirt with leather pants and suspenders, as well as matching leather gloves on her hands.

Her most distinguishing features, however, were her spectacles where one side of them had some kind of magnifying apparatus attached to it, and an old-fashioned wooden rifle slung across her back. Distinctly Western.

"The truce is over. If you do not wish to be killed right here and now, return to your Master."

"... Yes."

And that was it. Assassin turned and walked away, almost like a doll. Lancer watched her disappear into the darkness, as the clouds above started to pour with rain. He looked up as the rumble of thunder echoed in the distance.

He stood there, feeling the warm and soothing rain wash away his worries... only for them to resurface immediately afterwards. He wished he could stand here for the rest of eternity, cycling through his thoughts and letting the deluge patter down upon him.

This was no such ideal world, though.

With an unsatisfied grunt, he too disappeared as he leaped into the night.

Rider's pool of blood was washed away as the storm washed away all traces of conflict between Servants, just like that.

* * *

Far from the site, once all traces of battle had been swept away by the rain, Ridley lowered his binoculars and clicked his tongue.

"Old man, you're getting wet."

Giselle waved to him from behind, sitting within the shelter of a tree canopy and a pink umbrella. Beside her was the large trunk that the old man liked to lug around. Ridley shook his head and returned to her side, wiping water from his face.

"There were no chances to strike there, couldn't get a clear visual on either of them... one is definitely a Lancer, though."

"Lancer? Are you sure?"

He took out a cigar to light, but figured it was too wet to do so, before putting it back into his pocket dejectedly.

"Long polearm for a weapon. It's a safe assumption. Berserkers do not try to talk before they fight, after all."

Hoisting the container onto his back with a grunt, he sighed and looked into the rainy sky. The rain wasn't too loud, but it was certainly quite audible. Enough to drown out other subtle sounds.

"... Which one are we going to play with?"

"None, for tonight. We missed our chance, but another will come up. In Grail wars, trouble always comes up sooner or later. As long as we ain't the source of it, we should be able to make this work."

It was their mission to analyze it, first and foremost. If it was something that the Association could obtain, then that would be the priority. However, there was no material proof of the Grail existing. Even if Servants were undeniably existing there, it could easily be a manipulation of the original ritual...

"I still feel the not-goods..."

He ruffled her hair as he smiled. She closed her eyes and let him, despite that wet hand moistening up her fair hair quite a bit.

"I know, I know. We'll keep looking, alright?"

She nodded. Yet, as she attempted to start walking off, she instead lurched forward and fell over.

"Bakun!"

Slap, as she hit the ground. She seemed stunned for a moment as she lay there in the wet dirt. Ridley gasped quietly and helped her up quickly. She looked at herself, as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I-I got it dirty..."

Ridley pulled her into a warm embrace as she sniffled away. She hugged back into his warmth, pressing her little nose into his shoulder.

"It's okay, you have a nice new outfit back at the room... you just tripped over, that's all."

"M-mmh..."

After the moment of embrace went on for a little longer, she wiped her eyes and clutched onto his hand. He clutched onto hers, as they wandered through the rainy forest. Eventually, she was smiling again as she started to hum a random tune under the dry shelter of her umbrella, boots splashing away.

Ridley chuckled as he looked on ahead. He didn't have any leads on Rosenkreuz or the Grail yet, despite his efforts. Although, if it let him experience more moments like this with Giselle... he was content enough to take his time. Even if, in the grand scheme of things, time was the most limited resource of all.

* * *

 **Omake**

 **Giselle:** Zzz... zzz...

 **Mox:** Shhhh.

 **Assassin:**... *staaare*

 **Mox:** GWAH! When did you get in here?!

 **Giselle:** *shoots up* Bakuun?!


End file.
